There Within
by kinole009x
Summary: Six years after the events of the Princess and the Goblin, Irene returns to the castle to see what became of her grandmother and of Curdie.  Can both save her from a new problem that has risen in those past six years?
1. The Silver Thread

_The Princess and the Goblin_ was one of my favorite movies when I was young, and I recently bought it on DVD to watch it again and I also read the book. It will forever remain one of my favorite stories. I wanted to write a tiny little fan fiction based on it and this is my attempt. If wondering whether this is based on the movie version of the characters, or the book version, it is both intertwined (since I love both versions).

All characters are soley George MacDonald's.

So here it goes...I'm not sure if anyone will even read this, since it doesn't appear that _The Princess and the Goblin _is the most popular of fanfic archives. But I would still like to have it out in the open and part of my own collection of stories. And so here it begins.

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_Chapter 1: The Silver Thread_

Deep amid a green forest of scented pine trees, a young princess was far from home. But that is no need for anyone to be alarmed, for the princess was traveling from her present home to what had been her former home, and a home is never a strange place.

Indeed, although it was well past twilight and the darkness surrounded her on all sides, the princess, whose name was Irene, was not afraid. She was excited, so excited that she could barely keep still upon the white steed she rode.

Her young mind was filled with memories and with hope. The last time the Princess Irene had looked upon this old home, she had been approximately eight years old and the castle had been half flooded. It was there that she had bid farewell to a young miner and his family, there where she had left behind a magical grandmother in the tower.

If there had been anyone hiding amongst the shadows of the trees, which the reader can be assured there were not, they would have thought themselves that the princess resembled a magical goddess. Although she was not aware of it, the whiteness of the steed and the whiteness of her long, flowing gown caused a certain glow about her. Her long, golden hair cascaded down her back, longer than it had ever been, and around her brow circled a gold band instead of the pink one she had worn as a child.

Although Irene felt much older, there are still some who would consider her a child, being only fourteen years of age. But in her own thoughts, she was as good as grown-up, and her king-papa had not the heart to refuse her request to journey back to her childhood home.

The princess had at this time come to the end of the forest and atop her steed, found herself upon a mountain. And although it was dark, she could make out in the valley below a castle standing tall and no doubt, abandoned.

As Irene rode closer to her former home, she was slightly surprised to see that it was no longer flooded. It had been a long time since she had last seen it, a good six years at that, and she wondered where all the water had gone to. Surely it had not just evaporated? What the princess did not know was that, many years ago, upon the orders of a certain young miner, the water had been drained from the castle.

When she finally reached the gates, Irene could contain herself no longer, and she slipped off of the white steed's back and rushed to the iron portals. She did not bother to tether the animal, for she knew that the intelligent horse would follow the orders of the king and rush back to inform him that his daughter had arrived at her destination safely.

She stepped quickly and lightly through what had once been the courtyard, until she reached the door of the grand house. It was only once she stepped inside that she was filled with uncertainty.

Now, as I had before mentioned, the princess was in no way afraid; in fact, it was her fearlessness that often worried her king-papa and the members of his royal court. And she surely did not suspect that there was any outlaws living in the castle. But she realized it was a place so brimming with emotions and heavy with memories that she wondered if she was even ready to face it all again.

Strictly reminding herself that she had not journeyed a few days for absolutely nothing, she stepped into the Great Hall and instantly began the walk to her former room. She knew this way by heart and it was a desire deep in that heart to know whether her great-great grandmother still dwelled within the castle walls.

Irene was not prepared for the tightening in her stomach when she entered her room and saw it in complete disarray. She should not have been surprised; since no one had touched the room since the day the goblins had come searching for her. But to see the once cheerful nursery looking as it did made her feel rather uneasy.

Wasting no time, for she had not time to waste, she fell to her knees in front of a small door, and just as she hoped, the emblem of a red rose glowed brightly. She touched it immediately and the door opened.

The Princess Irene crawled inside, remembering fondly a time when she could actually fit through the door easily, and then stood to her full height amongst the wooden beams and the cobwebs. Perplexed that she could even see in the stifling darkness, she began to ascend the stairs.

She was so anxious to see her grandmother that the three staircases seemed to last forever. It was only once she got to the bottom of the ladder-like staircase, the one with the landing that held the three doors on top, that she hesitated.

Once again reminding herself that she had come to make the most of everything, she stepped carefully up the stairs. She went instantly into the door all the way to the left, which she knew well to be her grandmother's work room. But once she opened the door, she saw only the empty chair next to the spinning wheel, the moonlight casting a bright light upon both objects.

Realizing that perhaps her beautiful grandmother was in her bedroom, Irene stepped out of the room and went to the door all the way to the right. When she opened it, she saw the bedroom looked the same as it always had; comfortable and beautiful, with endless objects all around and dark blue walls with constant silver stars. And of course, the marvelous silver globe that hung in the center of the ceiling. But there was no grandmother to be found.

Vexed, Irene stood in the room, feeling very lost. She swept away all doubts that all the encounters of her grandmother had been merely dreams. She had established long ago that they were realities and she knew her king-papa, as well as the young miner Curdie, could attest to it.

Feeling her determination draining from her body, Irene whispered out loud, "Grandmother?" in the hopes that the old lady would appear. And when she did not, Irene sat on the floor and wearily put her head in her hands, not sure of what to do next.

It was at that moment that she felt something touch her right hand ever so gently, and as if in instinct, the princess put out her hand and felt along the air with her forefinger, on which a pretty gold ring sparkled. She felt a slight thread and in the soft light of the silvery globe, could almost make it out in the darkness. Her heart leapt as she realized this was a sign.

Irene hurriedly scrambled to her feet and began to follow the thread, just like she had done when she had been eight years of age. She followed it out of her grandmother's bedroom and down the stairs, all the many flights of them, until the silvery thread led her out of her room and out of the castle altogether.

She felt much better once she was out in the cool air and she followed the thread out of the gate and along up the mountain path, having not the slightest idea where it was taking her. But she knew that the thread had never led her astray and she had put her complete and utter trust into the fine object. But when the thread led her to a grassy cliff that sharply dropped away, the princess frowned.

Long ago, the thread had once led her to a pile of rocks, and it had taken her a little while to realize that she had to set aside the stones in order to go through. Irene knew this situation could be no different, although she found it very difficult to find a solution to this particular problem. To climb down would surely be impossible and to jump would be all the more foolish.

The princess had turned on her heel, away from the cliff, to look around her, and just as she did so, the grassy turf beneath her fell away, and she felt herself falling. She grabbed onto the edge of the cliff, where she dangled dangerously. Beside her, the thread dangled as well, but in her current predicament, it did not make her feel much better to know she was still following the right path.

She dug her fingernails into the ground, hanging out tightly, wondering how she would ever find the strength to pull herself back up…or the nerve to let herself fall.


	2. The Fateful Reunion

_Chapter 2: The Fateful Reunion_

After a time, the fingernails of the young princess began to ache dreadfully as she struggled to hold onto the edge of the cliff. She once again looked over at her trusty companion, the silver thread, and suddenly realized what she had to do. Slowly reaching out her right hand, she grasped the fine thread in her fingers. And then she let go of the cliff.

Irene cried out, unprepared for the sensation of her heart rising into her throat as she fell. She had thought that perhaps the thread would be strong enough to hold her and that she would glide slowly and gracefully to the ground below.

What the princess was unaware of was that there was an old friend waiting for her at the bottom.

In the short seconds that she spent falling through the air, Irene had tried to mentally prepare herself for a broken bone or some other kind of trauma. She was altogether more miffed when she fell directly and precisely into two arms.

The princess was very relieved when her savior finally put her down, for she felt very much uncomfortable in two strange arms, although she would find out in the moments after that the two arms were not strange at all, and that they had in fact carried her more than a few times when she was a little girl.

Irene peered at the face of her rescuer, a face that was half hidden in shadow and half exposed in moonlight. But in due time, she realized that it was the young miner, Curdie.

With a squeal of delight, Irene threw her arms around him but withdrew so fast that he had not even a chance to embrace her in return. "Curdie!" she exclaimed breathlessly. "Curdie, is it really you?"

"It is, Princess," the boy replied with a smile but upon seeing the sudden sternness that crossed Irene's features because he had addressed her so formally, he added hastily, "It is, Irene."

Irene was caught off her guard at Curdie's appearance. He had always been tall, and at that, taller than her, but now he was even taller than that, and doing a few quick calculations in her head, she guessed that he was now around eighteen years of age. The thought made her suddenly shy and she took a step backward.

"I did not expect to find you here," she said observantly, reaching out her finger to touch her thread. She started slightly, realizing it was no longer there.

Curdie's eyes had followed her finger and he also put out his hand, as if to feel around for something that was no longer there.

The princess looked about her, but the thread was nowhere to be found. Turning back to Curdie, she thrust her hands behind her back, hoping to hide her dirt-filled fingernails and the fact that she had been consumed in her grandmother's magic.

But Curdie spoke quite suddenly upon that last matter.

"I followed it here," he told her, "right from the mine where I work with my father."

Irene realized that he meant the silver thread, and she looked towards the castle, wondering if her grandmother had meant for her to meet Curdie there. But before she could say another word, Curdie offered her his hand.

"But come, Irene," he said to her. "Won't you come and stay with us? It's getting very late."

The princess, forgetting her fingernails momentarily, put her hand into Curdie's, but looked once more at the castle.

"Unless you wanted to stay there…" Curdie trailed off uncertainly.

"No," Irene answered, tearing her gaze away. She did not like the idea of spending the night alone in the castle, having not yet seen her grandmother there. She allowed Curdie to lead her across the valley and back up the mountain path.

Along the way, they talked constantly, of what each had been up to in the six years they had not seen each other, and of any particular news of interest that may have occurred in that time. The initial shyness of both had worn off and they spoke just like the childhood friends that they had once been, freely and with no hesitancy. And looming above them was the great and large and wonderful realization that Irene's grandmother had perhaps led them to the same place, and thus, to each other.

The heart of the young princess filled with joy upon seeing once again the little cottage where Curdie lived with his mother and father. The moonlight shone down on it, and it seemed as if it shone only on it, and it was so beautiful and serene that Irene immediately felt calm and even a tad bit sleepy.

When Curdie led her into the cottage, his mother let out a little cry, half of surprise at not seeing the little girl that Irene once was, and half of joy at seeing the princess again at all. She opened her arms wide and Irene, feeling once again as if she were eight, rushed into the arms that had welcomed her so many years ago when she sought escape from the goblins, the very same arms that had held her while she slept soundly before a warm and pleasant fire.

Curdie's father, Peter, was just as pleased to see the princess again, and he and his wife were more than hospitable, seeing that she had something to eat immediately. However, nothing escaped the wise eyes of Curdie's mother and she had noticed how desperately Irene had tried to hide her hands during the meal. And so once they were all settled before the fire, she brought out a basin of warm, clear water, and washed the dirt and dried blood from the girl's fingernails.

And when it was time for everyone to retire for the night, she found herself in Curdie's bed and it once again made her feel very young, and as if she had tumbled headfirst into the past, and become once again the tiny princess who was seeking refuge from a band of goblins. She had slept in Curdie's bed that night so long ago and she thought of this as she slowly drifted to sleep.

The princess had insisted that she did not want to take over Curdie's bed and that she did not mind sleeping elsewhere, but Curdie had threatened to sleep outside in the bushes if she refused to take his room for the night. And so defeated, Irene had crawled into the bed, only then acknowledging how exhausted she really was. And Curdie's mother had come in and kissed her goodnight and Curdie had waved to her from the doorway.

That night, the princess dreamt of her great, great grandmother and of Curdie and of her king-papa. She dreamt of golden rings and silver strings and the warm embraces of a family once again found. And echoing endlessly in her dream was Curdie's song, the one that he had always sang to cause the goblins great distress and panic.

And as she slumbered peacefully, she had not the slightest idea that the following days would be less than perfect and that problems would arise and that loyalties would be tested.

And at that quiet, wonderful moment, it didn't much matter.


	3. The Horrible Travesty

_Chapter 3: The Horrible Travesty_

The following days were filled with the utmost joy. During the mornings, Curdie would go with his father to work in the mines, but he always was allowed to leave early to spend the afternoons with Irene. And they, in turn, spent their evenings with Curdie's mother and father and had someone been peeking in at their window each night, they would have remarked how they had never seen a happier bunch in their entire lives.

But troubles rose soon enough, as troubles are often wont to do, and it was while working in the mines one morning that Curdie discovered something that made him positively ill.

While mining away and listening to the banter of the other miners, Curdie had become increasingly aware of another sound beyond the gang he was digging forth. It appeared to him to be a strange muttering noise and he wondered why the others did not hear it, although it was most likely because Curdie had sharper ears than any of them.

He noticed a loose slab of rock to his left, and after looking around to make sure nobody was paying attention to him, he moved it slightly and half stepped into the cavern behind it. The muttering was much clearer now and it sounded like incessant voices. This prodded Curdie's curiosity, for there had been no goblins in the mountain for six years and there were no other creatures that he knew of that dwelled within the stone caves.

Leaving his pickaxe behind, Curdie crept fully into the stifling darkness of the cavern. Deep down in his heart he knew it was a foolish thing to wander off completely alone and unaided, but he felt drawn to the mysterious voices, as if by a magnetic force. He followed the sound for quite awhile, feeling his way with outstretched hands, until he saw the soft glow of light rising from down below a crevice.

Dropping to his hands and knees, Curdie crawled carefully to the edge and listened.

And voices there were; loud, crude voices and occasional shouts of ugly laughter. Because they still didn't sound very close, Curdie ventured to look over the edge and saw a sight that he was not altogether prepared for.

Goblins! But how could they be there and for how long? The majority of the goblins had drowned six years ago and the ones that were somehow spared had fled. Still looking down, Curdie observed that it was only a little band of goblins, but uncontrollable revulsion seethed through his veins when he saw that the goblin standing tall and powerful in the center of the rest was no other than Harelip, the goblin prince.

Barely uttering a breath, Curdie listened deeply; knowing the band of misfits had to be there for a reason. It did not escape his notice that Harelip had suddenly appeared around the same time that the Princess Irene recently had. And that realization made the young miner even more determined to know the plans of the goblins.

For a good quarter of an hour, nothing of substance was said, although they were many snorts and giggles and cheers. Curdie listened in annoyance, wondering why they did not bother to keep their voices down. Did they _want_ to be discovered?

But it was when Harelip raised his arms dramatically and stomped his soft goblin foot that the rest of the goblins fell silent. Curdie became once again alert, as he heard Harelip exclaim, with his custom lisp, "The plan!"

The plan! Finally, the plan! Curdie's eyes never left the goblin prince as he told of his plan.

"This plan shall not fail!" Harelip cried mightily as he looked upon his tiny goblin band. "And I shall show you why." And as he said those words, he waved a sickly, goblin hand, muttered under his breath, and disappeared into thin air.

In his place stood a tall, handsome, young man, as regal as a prince. Curdie's eyes widened in shock as he took in the strange sight of the golden-haired human, who had eyes as green as the sea and was adorned in rich clothing of deep reds and blinding whites, with a black cape flowing from behind.

All of the goblins sitting at his feet let out audible gasps of surprise and disgust. With a wave of his normal-looking human arm, Harelip calmed them. "I know, I know," he said with a sigh. "It bothers me to no end to be disguised in this outrageous garb; it truly bothers me. But, how can my plan fail? Tell me that, brothers!"

There was a murmur of sudden realization among the goblins and Curdie rolled his eyes at their dull stupidity.

"Because when I go above ground looking like a hideous sun creature and doing hideous sun creature good deeds, " the human Harelip explained in uncontrollable excitement, "then I shall have no problem in snagging the Princess Irene and dragging her down to our kingdom at last! And from that point forth, we shall rebuild the goblin kingdom and expand on it and take over the sun creatures!"

All of the goblins broke out into loud shouts of exuberant joy and horrified, Curdie backed away from the edge of the crevice, scrambled to his feet, and stumbled all the way back to the small entry he had made in the wall. He squeezed through it, knocking over his pickaxe in the process, and slid the slab of rock back into place. And when he frantically turned, he came face to face with his father.

Peter's concern shone brightly in his eyes and with a furrowed brow, he opened his mouth to speak. But when he saw the urgent look in his son's eyes, he trusted it completely and stepped aside to let him through.

Curdie broke into a run as he exited the mine in the mountain and navigated the path to where he was supposed to meet the princess for the afternoon. He guessed, from the angle of the sun, that it was about that time, and soon after, disbelief flooded these thoughts as he struggled to make sense of what he had heard and seen.

Harelip was going to try and kidnap Irene, just like he had tried to do with the aid of an entire goblin population when she had been eight years old. And without the protection of the king and his warriors, how could Curdie ever expect to fight them? And how had Harelip gained such powers to transform himself?

In his haste to reach the princess, Curdie left the familiar path behind in favor of a shortcut and ran through the forest, branches scratching at his face and snagging in his clothes. His lungs ached terribly but he continued on, knowing that time waited for no one and especially not for those in need. As he reached the edge of the woods, he dropped to his knees in momentary relief, seeing that the princess was safe and alone, sitting in the valley beyond, whispering to the primroses that she so adored.

At that moment, a jet black steed appeared on top of the hill overlooking the valley, and on top of it, Curdie recognized Harelip in his human disguise. The princess, so absorbed in the primroses, paid no heed to him as he descended down the slope and moved towards her.

Curdie leapt to his feet, intending to run and take her away before the horrid goblin prince could reach her, but he found that he could not move. His feet were stuck to the ground and he wrestled wildly to free himself against his invisible bonds, but to no avail. He saw now that Harelip was a few paces behind Irene, and Curdie opened his mouth to shout a warning, but found that no sound escaped his throat.

And though he still thrashed in vain, he found he could only watch, torn and invisible, as Harelip cast out his arm in a theatrical movement and moved his mouth to form words that Curdie could neither hear nor decipher. The ground rumbled underneath Irene and split in two. With a shriek, she fell, as if the very earth had opened up to swallow her.

And just as fast as Irene had fallen, Harelip had jumped of his horse and caught her hands before she fell all the way. He pulled the bewildered princess to safer ground and stood back, tall and proud, as Curdie watched on in angry confusion.


	4. The Wrenching Disagreement

_Chapter 4: The Wrenching Disagreement_

The princess had been gently tracing the petals of the primroses that danced before her in the light wind. She was waiting for Curdie to come from the mines, so that they might go to the castle that had once been her home and explore it. Irene had a hidden hope that she might find her grandmother, whom she had not yet seen, and besides that, she just wanted to see what had become of the rest of the grand house.

All in the span of approximately five seconds, the ground shook, opened up, and devoured the young princess. In the span of an additional five seconds, two hands grasped hers and pulled her to safety, a reasonable distance away from the unusual, gaping hole.

Irene stared for a moment at the handsome, young man who stood proudly before her, before she remembered her manners and stammered out her humble thanks.

"I thank you for saving my life, Mister…?"

"Harry," said the young man with an intriguing trill on the R's, his proud nose in the air. "Prince Harry."

"Prince," Irene murmured, before dipping into a quick and clumsy curtsy.

"Please, there is no need to bow before me, Princess," Prince Harry said kindly, lowering his nose and extending a hand to her to help her back up to her normal height.

Although the princess accepted his help, she was suddenly suspicious of him. How had he known she was a princess? Surely she had not told him.

As if seeing the question lurking behind her eyes, Harry gave a tiny chuckle. "Princess Irene," he said. "Your father is a well known king and a brave man. I dwell near your kingdom."

Irene had paused thoughtfully. "Really?" she said. "I have never before heard of you or your realm, Prince Harry."

"It's a small one," the prince replied hastily. "But now, if you will excuse me, I must be on my way. Important matters to attend to, you know."

The princess was slightly disappointed that he was going to disappear so soon, for she did enjoy meeting new people, but said nothing as she studied him once more. He was quite dashing with his golden hair and his sea-like eyes. His garments were so very fine, with whites and reds, and a mysterious black cape. She felt suddenly very self conscious in her faded white gown, which had become worn from being washed in the stream and adventuring with Curdie.

"Perhaps I shall you see you tomorrow," Harry said with a gracious smile.

"That would be lovely," Irene replied, bowing her head to him, "for I should like to find a way to thank you."

Harry jumped upon the steed. "There is no need. Saving the life of a young, beautiful princess is quite enough reward for me." And with a nod of his own head, he galloped off to whence he came.

At that moment, Curdie felt his invisible bonds release him and taking the fullest advantage of this, he ran as fast as he could to Irene's side. Anger still prodded at him like an annoying pest and although he could not hear what Irene and Harelip had said to each other at the time, he had seen enough of their reactions and facial expressions to guess.

When Irene saw Curdie approach, her smile disappeared as she took in his appearance. He looked positively bedraggled, with small scratches covering his face and tears lining his clothing. But most striking of all was the darkness in his usually bright eyes and his hands, which were clenched into fists so tight that his knuckles were white.

"Curdie, what is the matter?"

Curdie did not know what to say to her. He had already made up his mind to not mention to the princess that her rescuer was indeed a goblin travesty, for deep down, he believed that if Harelip had any notion that his true identity had been revealed, he would come and drag the princess away all the quicker. And if that was to be avoided, Curdie needed to buy his time.

Irene watched, suddenly fearful, as he cast a glare towards the direction that Prince Harry had disappeared to. And just as suddenly, his gaze snapped back to the princess.

"What happened?" he demanded.

Irene looked down into the dark, endless hole that had almost claimed her.

"The ground suddenly collapsed," she explained. "I assure you I don't know how it happened. And suddenly, a prince appeared and rescued me. It was the strangest thing."

Curdie heard Harelip's words in his head, and it suddenly all made sense. _Because when I go above ground looking like a hideous sun creature and doing hideous sun creature good deeds…_

Harelip had caused the ground to cave in so that he could save the princess. His plan was not to seize the princess and take her down into the mountain against her will, but to court her first and lead her there, where she would be trapped forever once she learned the truth.

Irene, a bit frustrated that Curdie was not answering her, delicately stepped around the giant hole in the valley, and began to walk, for it was already getting late and the sun was dipping down behind the mountains, ready to retire for the night and hand its shift over to the moon.

Curdie immediately fell into step beside her. For awhile, they walked in silence.

The dead air of quiet made the princess uneasy and so she decided to speak more about what had befallen her. "He really was a lovely man," she assured Curdie. "He said I might see him tomorrow. Perhaps you could meet him!"

As the castle appeared in the distance against the blood-red sunset, Curdie stopped in his tracks. The thought of meeting Harelip in disguise and pretending nothing was wrong disturbed him greatly. Knowing the princess was in a terrible danger, he turned and put his hands firmly on her shoulders.

"Irene," he said, his eyes holding hers. "You are not to see him tomorrow."

Déjà vu struck Irene quite suddenly. This situation that was now unfolding was much too familiar in a strange sort of way. She remembered being eight years old in her grandmother's tower, and Curdie placing his hands on her shoulders in the same way, to tell her how serious the goblin situation was. He had not believed her about her grandmother at that time.

Startled, the princess could only stare at him in confusion. "But…he saved my life…"

"Yes," Curdie said quietly. "He did. But promise me, Irene, that you won't see him and that if he comes near you, you'll run the opposite way."

But now, at the age of fourteen, the princess had become an independent creature, and she had learned to think and decide for herself. And so, being told strictly what to do by anyone other than her king-papa bothered her greatly.

"I can't promise you that, Curdie," she said softly, knowing that she could not be so rude to someone who had so diligently rescued her.

She did not miss the fear that flashed in Curdie's eyes, before anger replaced it.

"Tell me," she continued on, "why I should avoid him and then perhaps, knowing your reasoning, I can."

Dropping his eyes to the ground while remembering his promise to himself that he would not utter Harelip's secret, at least not just yet, he told her that he could not tell her why.

Irked by her friend's strange behavior, Irene slipped away from his hands and stepped beyond his grasp as she turned towards the castle. She folded her arms, her gladness at being rescued quickly disappearing as frustration at Curdie took over.

"Irene…"

"I do not want to talk about this," Irene said heavily, knowing that if she kept arguing, she would grow angry and homesick and wish to leave.

"But you need to talk about it!" Curdie exclaimed from behind her. "It's serious, Irene."

Irene spun around. "But not serious enough, if you cannot even hand me a reason as to why I should not see him."

Curdie stared at her. "Why do you want to see him again so badly?"

For the first time, the princess wondered if jealousy had anything to do with Curdie's strange behavior. "It's not that I want to see him again. It's the fact that I will not be rude to him and pretend he does not exist for no reason."

"But you barely know him, why should it matter…"

"And the fact that you are daring to tell me what to do and with no good reason to do it!"

"Irene, please!"

"What is the matter with you today, Curdie?" The princess asked him angrily.

"Absolutely nothing, except that you will not listen to me…"

"I will not be told what to do!" And Irene stomped her foot and turned to walk away.

"Irene, wait," Curdie said, hurrying to fall into step beside her once again. "Where are you going?"

"I don't know," she said flatly, although she was heading right for the cover of the woods.

Curdie clasped her hand and stopped her, pulling her back to face him.

"Trust me on this," he said, his eyes begging her silently.

"You know, Curdie," Irene said. "Your mother told me you don't even sing anymore. Is that true?"

Curdie was caught off guard. "W-what?" he stammered, surprised.

"Exactly!"

Curdie stared at her once again.

"Goodbye, Curdie," she said at long last. "I'm going home."

"You can't just walk home! The journey will take days!" _And_, Curdie thought bitterly to himself, w_ho knows who will capture you when you're alone._

"I don't care!" the princess said defiantly, great big tears welling up in her eyes.

Curdie was becoming desperate and was even thinking about picking her up and carrying her back to the cottage against her will or at least following her. He took a step towards her but heard a female voice, very close to his ear, whisper, _let her go, Curdie._

He did as he was told. He took a step back and nodded, knowing if he pursued her, she would only resent him. "All right then," he said as calmly as he could, although his tone was still laced with anger. "Goodbye, Princess."

A look of disbelief crossed Irene's face, before she turned for good and disappeared into the forest.

Curdie turned away as well, his own chin crumpling under the weight of the heavy emotions he felt for the princess and her well-being. He began to walk, away from the sunset and towards the moon, away from Irene and towards a world of nothing.


	5. The Magical Visit

_Chapter 5: The Magical Visit_

Once she was a few steps into the forest greenery, the princess turned and watched Curdie walk away. The great, big tears that had been brimming brightly in her eyes before began to slide dramatically down her nose and down her rosy cheeks as her mind spun with anger. She didn't know why her dear friend was acting the way he was and she certainly thought it was odd that he hadn't followed her.

And once Curdie was out of sight, Irene burst from the forest and ran towards the castle that had once been her home.

/

Curdie had always thought that the mountain he lived on was beautiful in every way, but now, he only saw ugliness. The primroses that Irene loved so much mocked him. The clear stream near his home whispered loudly in a most irritating way. The white moon cast strange shadows everywhere, making bright things dark and interesting things dull.

He stopped abruptly when he reached the cottage. What would he tell his mother and father? He had always told them anything and everything, and he could not just let Irene wander in the forest alone, with no one knowing but himself…and possibly Harelip.

_Harelip_. And suddenly, adrenaline coursed through his veins and urgently, he flung open the door.

Curdie's mother, Joan, stood up in alarm and let her knitting fall to the floor. Peter looked up from his place before the fire, his brow furrowed in concern.

"Where is she?" Joan asked her son immediately, the absence of the princess weighing heavily on them already. She watched as Curdie shrugged, trying to seem as if he didn't care when Joan knew that he cared very much.

She strode over to him and although he was much taller than her now, she easily took his chin in her fingers and turned his face this way and that, studying the dark circles that had not been under his eyes before. It did not escape her that his dark brown eyes were filled with what seemed like a hundred different emotions, along with stubborn tears.

Peter had joined them but Joan knew Curdie did not want to speak. She let go of his chin and took her dark blue cloak from the hook next to the door. Throwing it over her shoulders and clasping it at her neck, she looked at the two men she loved more than anything. They stared at her in confusion.

She smiled the smallest of smiles and pulled the hood up to hide her face. "I'll find her, Curdie," she said gently, before opening the door and disappearing into the night.

/

Curdie's mother hurried and scurried down the mountain, the moon lighting her way and the crisp, cool wind keeping her mind alert. She hummed to herself to drive away fear and worry and quickened her pace. Somehow, she knew that if the princess were to go anywhere, it would be the grand castle.

She hadn't seen the castle in six years, not since that happy day when the goblins had been driven away in a torrent of water. She was quite surprised that her feet still knew the way and she let them carry her along the path, at times wading through tall grass and at other instances, stepping over big, gray boulders.

And at last, she came to the castle. Lifting her hooded head, she gazed up at the dark tower.

/

Irene stood at the bottom of the ladder-like staircase that led to landing with the three doors. Her grandmother hadn't been there before but Irene had a different feeling now – a strange feeling. And the princess had lost all hope anyway; she bitterly thought of how her hopes had walked away with Curdie. And so what would one more disappointment hurt?

She carefully made her way up the steps, suddenly feeling very tired. She wanted to get the disappointment out of the way and over with and so with no hesitancy, she immediately opened the door all the way to the left, expecting to greet darkness. Instead, she was blinded by a bright light. She threw up her arms to shield her face.

"Irene," said a beautiful, gentle voice.

Irene lowered her arms and despite her troubled mind, her heart leapt with joy, for standing by the spinning wheel was her great-great-grandmother. The old lady's long, silver hair fell to the waist of her soft purple gown, surrounding her with a shimmering glow. A gold crown sat atop her head. Her smile was warm and her eyes were loving.

The princess stood, dumfounded, and stared, as if in a trance. How could it be, that she wasn't there before, yet here she was now? It was incredible the way things worked at times. She continued to stand, rooted to the spot much like Curdie had been in the forest earlier that day, until the woman opened her arms wide.

And Irene felt so much emotion that she feared it would drown her. She had not seen this beautiful woman in six years, not since she was a little child – and by some miracle, here she was. _She was still there in the tower_. And as she ran towards her grandmother, she remembered the plight that had brought her there in the first place. She fell into the woman's arms and began to cry, thinking about how utterly stupid boys were and how very much she would have liked to be eight years old again.

The old woman stroked Irene's golden hair. "What brings you so far from home, child?" she said lightly in her pleasant, gentle tone.

Irene looked up suddenly, her face tear-streaked. "Why – this is home, Grandmother."

Her grandmother smiled. "You're quite right," she said. "This was your first home, after all." Then she pulled back slightly to look at her granddaughter fully. "Why, you are no child at all anymore. You've become a beautiful, young woman."

Irene blushed. "Thank you, Grandmother," she said humbly. And after a few moments of silence, a thought occurred to her.

"I knew you'd still be here," she whispered. "Although you weren't when I first came…"

"But I was here, Irene," her grandmother replied in a soft voice that seemed to float all around the princess. "You just could not see me."

Irene was silent, turning this thought over and over in her mind.

"And I wanted you to find Curdie first," her grandmother added thoughtfully.

"I followed the thread," Irene murmured. "It led me to him."

"That was my intention," the Grand Old Princess said, with a twinkle in her eye. "Speaking of Curdie, where has he gone?"

The princess's eyes dropped to the wooden floor boards. She resisted the urge to burst out with her angry accusations; she swallowed her hot words. And suddenly, she felt calmer, as she felt her grandmother put a gentle hand on her head.

The room was very quiet for a moment as the old, beautiful lady listened. And then a white pigeon flew in through the window.

"Someone is here to see you, Irene," she said very quietly. "You must go with them for now, but I'll be here when you come back."

"But when will I come back?" Irene asked, already feeling lost at the thought of leaving her grandmother after so short a visit.

Her grandmother touched the pretty, gold ring on Irene's finger. It gleamed in the light. "You'll know," she said, giving Irene one last smile as she backed away. And then she was gone.

Irene stood in the now dark and empty room. She feared that it was Curdie who was waiting for her but still, she urged herself to leave the room and the castle. She had to obey her great-great-grandmother and go with whoever was down there.

The young princess had nowhere else to go at the moment anyway.


	6. The Awkward Return

_Chapter 6: The Awkward Return_

Taking a deep breath, Irene opened the heavy, front door of the castle and peered out suspiciously. She sighed in relief when she saw that it was only Curdie's mother who was there and looking up at the sky, and not Curdie himself.

When Joan heard the creak of the wooden door, her worried face broke into a smile, and she rushed to embrace the princess. Then she pulled back and with her hands planted firmly on Irene's shoulders, she looked at her very carefully.

"Are you all right, dear?" Joan asked in a low voice and Irene nodded, hoping the moonlight was not showing her red eyes and blotched cheeks to Curdie's mother. Satisfied, Joan took off her blue cloak and put it over the princess's shoulders. Then she put an arm around the girl and began to lead her away from the castle.

Although Joan talked cheerfully all the way up the mountain and to the cottage, Irene could feel her tense fingers on her shoulder and hear the underlying worry in her voice. She wondered how much Curdie had told her, if anything at all. She felt dread swirl in her stomach as she realized she would see Curdie again, and that he would see that she had not gone home, like she had threatened to.

"Here we are," Curdie's mother said brightly, opening the cottage door and gently pulling Irene inside. Peter and Curdie were sitting at the table and they looked up when the two women entered. Irene kept her eyes carefully positioned on the floor, until Curdie's father spoke.

"Are you all right, princess?" he asked her, deeply concerned. "You don't look well."

"I don't feel well," Irene whispered and it was the truth.

"Poor dear," Joan murmured, pushing the princess gently towards the table and sitting her down across from Curdie. "Let me make you some hot tea and then we'll get you straight to bed."

Irene sat stiffly, with her heart positioned uncomfortably in her throat. She disliked awkward moments more than anything and this was, without a doubt, a very awkward moment. Needing something to do, she looked at Curdie's hands, which were gripping the sides of the table. And without meaning to, she suddenly looked up and into Curdie's stare. She couldn't help but feel sad when she saw that there was no trace of liveliness in his eyes; only what seemed like a weary aching.

She narrowed her eyes, not only hoping it would hide the redness, but also hoping it would show him that although she had somehow ended up back in his territory, that she had not surrendered to his reasoning.

"Curdie!"

Curdie and Irene both jumped slightly and looked over at Joan.

"Tea?" Joan repeated.

"No thank you," Curdie mumbled.

"Tea, Peter?"

"No thank you, Joan," Peter said, as he got up from the table and kissed his wife gently on the forehead. "I need to attend to something outside. I'll be right back." And with that, it was his turn to disappear out the door.

Curdie's mother held out her hand to Irene, holding the steaming, chipped cup of tea in the other. Irene got up and without another glance at Curdie, followed Joan into his room. She handed Joan back her cloak in exchange for the hot cup of tea and Joan bid her goodnight and sweet dreams, softly closing the door behind her.

Once she was alone, Irene changed into her nightgown and sat in Curdie's bed with her tea. She stared out the window, thinking of her less than perfect day. And when she grew so weary of thinking, she put her empty cup on the bedside table and got as physically comfortable as she could, since she knew it was useless to try to be mentally comfortable at that moment. She lay with the blanket pulled tightly around her as she wished for sleep to come quicker. And for the first time since she arrived there, she felt homesick…homesick for her king-papa and his uncomplicated kingdom.

/

It did not escape Joan that Curdie and Irene were not speaking to each other. She sat at the table with her son, gently tapping her fingers against the table, until Peter came back. As they all huddled around the table by the light of a tiny lantern, Curdie quietly told them everything that had happened that day. He angrily described Harelip's disguise and plan and how Harelip had deceivingly rescued the princess. He sadly spoke about their argument and admitted that he was not at all certain of what to do about the situation. The tiny family whispered together, wondering how best to protect their dear princess.

And when the discussion was over, Curdie crept out of the cottage, into the night, and to his bedroom window. He didn't look in because he knew Irene was sleeping safely within. Instead, he sat down in the soft grass outside the window. Even if she wouldn't speak to him, at least he could guard her. And that's exactly what he did, from that moment until the sun rose the next day.

/

That same next day, Irene sat outside by the stream. It was an absolutely beautiful day, but she didn't feel joy sinking into her like the rays of the sun so easily did. She sat alone, running her fingers through the cool water, making waves to amuse herself. And that's when she remembered her rescuer from the day before.

Defiantly, she thought about Curdie, who she had not seen at all yet that day. And she suddenly longed to go back to the meadow from the day before. She didn't see any reason to stay confined to the mountain on such a lovely day. Climbing to her feet and brushing the grass off of her dress, Irene walked through the open door of the cottage.

"Would it be all right if I went to the meadow, and perhaps to the castle, for a little while?" she asked Curdie's mother.

She watched as Curdie's mother paused, as if she were unsure of what to say. And then she smiled. "Of course, Irene."

Irene smiled and thanked her, all though she did not miss how hesitant Curdie's mother had seemed. And that's how she knew Curdie had told her everything. She hurried out of the cottage and began to run down the mountain, feeling free.

Joan immediately rushed to Curdie's room and stuck her head through the open window, to where her son lay sleeping beneath it. "Curdie!" she said urgently. "Curdie!"

Curdie opened his eyes and sat up.

"She's left," Joan explained hurriedly, "to visit the meadow and the castle."

Curdie was on his feet instantly, running towards the stream. He had assumed that this would happen; he knew what he had to do and he knew he had to be careful while he did it, or risk shattering Irene's trust. He would have to follow her secretly, making sure she didn't sense he was there.

With one hand gripping a small dagger that he had hidden in his belt, Curdie ran down the mountain. He knew there would be an encounter with Harelip that day and he was ready for it.

/

Once Irene arrived at the meadow, she wasn't quite sure what to do. She walked in a tiny circle, before kneeling in the grass to admire the primroses, just like the day before. And just at the moment when she was admiring those primroses, she felt an uncomfortable, burning sensation on ring finger.

Holding her hand up to her face and spreading her fingers, she saw that the golden ring her grandmother had given her was glowing. Or was it just sparkling in the sunlight? Irene wasn't sure, but she couldn't ignore how warm it felt. Deciding that it was a sign, she got to her feet. She would head to the castle.

It was at that exact moment that the large oak tree behind her groaned, much like a human would if they were about to fall over and die. Irene turned and in horror, saw the huge tree begin to fall, right towards her.


End file.
